


Peas

by eveshka



Series: Tales of the Dawn King [45]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 06:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12205833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveshka/pseuds/eveshka
Summary: Read to me?





	Peas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strangeandintoxicating](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/gifts).



“Igigg, read to me.”

The words caught Ignis off guard, as he knew perfectly well that the four-year-old prince had no interest in the document that Ignis was reading. Honestly? Ignis didn’t have much interest in reading about the agricultural exports of lower Cleigne, but it was something he needed to know.

Bright green eyes looked at the prince from above the documents, magnified slightly by the lenses that allowed the older boy to see with crystal clarity. It gave him a slightly older and unworldly look to most adults and was also possibly why he insisted on wearing them. The prince just looked young and had the rumpled air of having just rolled out of bed. That was entirely likely Ignis admitted to himself, and simply nodded to his charge.

Noctis wasted no time in scrambling into the chair, curling himself in against Ignis, and after balling his fisted hand under his chin promptly seemed to fall asleep. Again.

Ignis picked up where he’d left off and kept reading.

A hand reached up, patting at his neck and chin aimlessly, as if a cat seeking attention from a particularly inattentive owner. “Read.” The voice was soft with sleep, but had the edge of a whine in it that Ignis had learned quickly meant if he didn’t comply, he’d have tears and a running nose to deal with. Honestly, he couldn’t wait for the prince to grow out of that phase.

“The procedure for preparing plans for merger of agricultural lands, for applications by owner for the merger of the same, continues. It is expected to be approved and that the 35 acres of land will be commonly known as Furloch Farms.” Ignis read aloud, only pondering the pronunciation of the actual farm name, but estimating that he had reasoned it out quite well.

Noctis said nothing, so Ignis continued. “Production of peas is expected to increase as a result of the merger, and therefore the cost of the same is expected to be reduced by 6.5% overall.”

“Ew,” said the sleepy voice. “Peas.”

Ignis lowered the papers, and looked down, but the prince was asleep.

 

Years later, a teenaged Ignis sat on the sofa of Noctis’ apartment, reading. In his lap, the head of one Noctis Lucis Caelum, currently in the throes of a terrible sinus infection, and insistent that the only thing that made him feel better was the precise angle given by resting his head in his advisor’s lap.

Ignis knew better, but kept his mouth shut. This phase too would pass.

A hand lifted, flailing against his shoulder and neck, trying to reach his chin. “Read.”

Ignis sighed to himself. Some things never changed. His lips curled in spite of himself, and he took a breath and began to read. “With the influx of immigrants from the five municipalities affected by the recent incursion from the Empire, Insomnia is suffering from moderate food shortages. Coupled with the crop damage suffered from the untimely frost, it is expected that import of peas will be down by thirty-one percent this year.”

“Ew,” said the sleepy voice. “Peas.”

Ignis smiled quietly, and then kept reading quietly, knowing full well his prince was already asleep.

 

It was too hot to be sequestered in the hotel in Lestallum, but needs must. Iris had shown the uncrowned king around, and Ignis had collated the latest news after the fall of the Crown City, trying to glean some insight as to the state of survivors. He was seated on the bed when an all-too-familiar thing happened: Noctis dropped onto the bed with a dramatic groan and worked his way into the old traditional position of head on Ignis’ lap.

“Gods it’s hot and my head hurts. Read to me?”

For the first time, Ignis paused. The words swimming in front of his eyes were not words he wanted to read to Noctis. With a careful glance down to ensure his charge’s eyes were indeed closed, Ignis cleared his throat and read from memory. “Damages to Furloch farms from the increasing daemon population has resulted in a severe shortage of farmhands willing and able to attend to harvest, so it is estimated that the current crop of peas will largely go unattended. Further actions must be undertaken to entrust the continued sustainability of the farm itself.”

“Ugh,” the king grunted. “Peas.”

Ignis swallowed the lump in his throat and continued reading about the loss of lives in Insomnia while his king slept on.

 

The underground haven was dark, but to the man sitting on the bed, it didn’t matter. His fingers trailed along a page of paper that he’d taken with him from Hammerhead to be read at a later point. It was by his standards, morning, and the others were still asleep, soft sounds betraying the dreams they slipped though.

So it was that Ignis found himself surprised when a familiar weight settled in on the bunk next to him, leaned against him and then slid down into his lap, and nudged the paper out of the way. He waited, and, as expected, the hand flapped at his shoulder.

“Read to me?”

A small pain settled within Ignis’ heart, and he breathed around it, offering his perfected smile. “Of course, Majesty.” He lifted the paper and trailed his fingers along the raised dots on the paper. “Peas futures are uncertain, considering the long night and the slow efficacy of adapting the plants to greenhouse environments. Should the sun return, the chance of increasing the peas is considerably favorable.”

“Ignis?”

“Yes, Noct?”

“You know I hate peas, right?”

“I do.”

“So why are you always reading about them to me?”

“Noct, has it not once crossed your mind that ‘peas’ were not precisely to what I was referring? All I am saying is give peas a chance.”

There was a long silence, and then in the darkness came a softly chuckled sigh. “As you were, Iggy. As you were.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ignis plays a very long game.


End file.
